


A Little Skellige Breeze

by shortcircuitify



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 07:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7705789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortcircuitify/pseuds/shortcircuitify
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I love you, you know that right?" That laugh, again, and he knew her gorgeous smile was accompanying it while she began heating some water, "Of course, and I love you too. Or else I don't know how I would deal with you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt breathed in the salty breeze native to the Skellige isles, still groggy and a little bit disoriented from waking up a tad too early for his liking. Was it _really_ before noon? The nightmares were back again in full force, about the Hunt, Ciri not surviving the Crones' fury afterall… so the jolt from his storm of a mind was actually quite pleasant in comparison to the alternative.

He shuddered slightly, the cold getting in from an open shutter he had forgotten to close the night prior due to being… preoccupied, and the movement made the person lying beside him and currently using his arm as a pillow squirm, trying to get comfortable once again from his sudden movement.

He turned his head to find his nose buried in a mass of midnight locks, the smell of lilac and gooseberries overtaking his senses. He sighed in contentment, running his hand up the side of his bedfellow, running his hand from her hip to the dip in her waist, and higher, making her squirm to try and get comfortable again, pushing her back into the chest of her own personal bed warmer as much as she could. She sighed in contentment, still asleep, and without disturbing her further, Geralt sat up slightly to get a better look at the woman he loved – it wasn't normal, after all, for him to wake up before her, so he took this moment while he had it.

The covers had fallen down to both their waists, revealing her bare torso and silky smooth skin. He caressed her side again, knowing he would never get tired of feeling it beneath his palms against his own bare skin. But what drew him was Yen's relaxed face.

Her lips were still slightly swollen from the attentions he paid to them last night, and he smirked knowing the dark marks crisscrossing her neck would be visible for all the village to see when she would go shopping this afternoon. Her face was so relaxed, no lines scrunching her forehead, and he thanked all the gods he could for the whirlwind that was Yennefer, and through everything, that she had chosen him.

He looked down suddenly, feeling movement near his hips, and noticed that Yen's bum had seemingly decided to awaken all on its own and awaken _him_ in turn as well. He looked back up to see her eyes still closed, but that mischievous smile he knew all too well plastered on her lips.

He smirked again, and leaned down to kiss those smiling lips. "Minx."

She giggled lightly, eyelids opening to show him those brilliant violet orbs, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He leaned in for another kiss, hoping to stay in bed far longer than either of them should, but before he could do so she grabbed his chin between two of her fingers and pecked him quickly on the lips, before pushing him on his back so she could get up and begin her daily ablutions.

Geralt watched as she sat up and stretched languidly, her bare body against the morning light giving him plenty of ideas of what they could do that evening - _again_. Before she truly got out of bed, he watched as she unconsciously scratched the center of her back, the closest to where her true form hid, that she could reach. She rubbed the spot where her hunchback was, hidden from view, but before she could leave the bed Geralt wrapped one of his arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest.

He saw her rub it every morning, her shoulders slumping with a burden she would never share with him, and every morning he ignored it, if only for her own pride. But he could not watch her slump in defeat any longer. She had nothing to hide, especially from him. If anything, it made her even more beautiful, the pride she wore the evermore graceful.

He kissed her back, slowly and gently over the now irritated spot, and despite her tensing at first, she soon sighed in pleasure and relaxed in his arms, "You're beautiful," he whispered to her skin.

She entwined her hands with his, squeezing them gently, and he understood. They sat a moment longer, before she turned swiftly in his arms to face him, legs entwined together. She rubbed the space between his brows, which only made him scowl further in jest. Yen giggled, but quickly turned sober once again.

Her face was serious, yet open, and he soaked in the vulnerable look, mirroring her seriousness in turn. She really was beautiful, all of her.

"You need to worry less."

"Well, that's going to be tricky."

"No, I mean-" she paused, her hand running over his chest and abdomen, "About Ciri, she's fine, the Hunt is over… And you have your dream right in your arms," there was that mischievous smile again, and Geralt couldn't help but capture her lips once more.

He didn't care if she read his mind, or if she could just tell from his tossing and turning at night that his conscious plagued him, because it was Yen. And her reassurance was all he needed, or wanted.

He loved this woman. Loved her, no doubt.

Before the kiss could deepen further, Yen pulled away again, and jumped from the bed knowing well that Geralt would try to convince her to stay in bed with him all day.

Yen's laugh was beautiful and resonated throughout their home as she escaped from their bedroom to begin the day, "I _do_ need to get things done today, Geralt. But once I return home, I'm _all_ yours!"

 _Tease._ Geralt flopped back into bed, smiling at the thought of Yen returning home and him promptly showering her with attention before she could even walk through the front door. And then her showering _him_ with attention…

"I love you, you know that right?"

That laugh, again, and he knew her gorgeous smile was accompanying it while she began heating some water, "Of course, and I love you too. Or else I don't know _how_ I would deal with you."


	2. Chapter 2

She rubbed her palms against his cheeks and jaw.

"What is it now?" He growled, half playful and half annoyed as his lady-love rubbed his face with the up-most scrutiny. She turned his head left and right, as if trying to figure something out in her deep violet depths.

Her eyes were narrowed as she observed him, and, of course, he allowed her to do what she wished. They were still in bed, after all, just after finishing up a late breakfast (or was it early lunch?) and catching up on some love-making.

Now, Yennefer seemed enamoured with his face. Not that he minded that much in the first place, since he himself was able to look at his love with the same amount of concentration, while she held his head in her delicate hands. Her hair was mussed, just the way he liked it, and flowed freely down her back, like an exotic mane.

Suddenly, she jerked his head upward, causing him to hiss as his concentration was suddenly broken. He really wasn't used to it, years of training causing him to always make sure he had his eyes on the target, never to be caught off guard and look away. But, the soft kiss he received on the underside of his jaw immediately got rid of his sudden anxiety.

He relaxed into Yen's gentle touch. She was an enigma, sometimes she was soft and gentle, and the next demanding and rough. He liked it. A lot. She was a woman who knew what she wanted – and most of the time, she wanted him, and for that he was grateful to all and any gods that were listening.

Then, all of a sudden, his head was jerked down again, and he was met with a mouthful of raven hair. He spit it out, and realized that Yen was now rubbing her cheek against his own, and seemingly… purring?

Well, it sounded like a purr to him at least, and he wasn't complaining from her sudden show of affection. He returned the gesture, rubbing his cheek against hers and placing a soft kiss onto the shell of her ear. She shivered, and he smirked.

She pulled away from him, slowly, enjoying the closeness between them, the intimacy in Geralt's arm wrapped around her waist and her own wrapped around his neck. She pulled away just enough that she could look into his amber cat-eyes, and he saw the contentedness in her depths.

A satisfied smile graced her lips, as if coming to a decision, and she gently grazed her lips over his, before whispering, "Yes, I really do think you should shave _less_ often."

He smirked. That's right – he hadn't shaved in the past week, and he had quite a bit of stubble lining his jaw and cheeks, "Anything you wish - is my desire." He breathed against her cheek before finally capturing her sweet lips as his.


	3. Chapter 3

Yennefer wadded her feet in the water of the lake, the dock beneath her damp from the early morning dew. She watched as the villagers around her splashed in the early summer water – she didn't know how they did it, it was still much too cold for her liking. She saw Geralt's head of white hair bobbing in the water near the other end of the lake, slowly making a lap back to her, and her eyes drifted to the other people enjoying the fresh morning.

"Daddy, Daddy, come play!" She heard a little girl squeal near the edge of the lake, and turned in time to see a man pick up the child and playfully throw her into the water, making the girl scream and giggle all at the same time, her dad following closely behind.

Despite herself Yennefer sighed, her shoulders slumping as she watched the father and daughter playing together. She remembered when Ciri was young, and Geralt would play with her in the same way.

Yen rubbed her lower abdomen, and looked at her flat stomach. As much as she tried, she couldn't imagine herself swelled with a child growing within her – that famous glow lighting her cheeks like she saw so many times on other woman heavy with child.

Maybe it was for the best – she had Ciri for a while, who was now making her own way across the world as a Witcher, and that would have to be enough. But she couldn't help thinking of a child, running into the water with Geralt following close behind – a head of thick, dark hair and eyes a golden amber.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice a certain Witcher sneak his way over to her, slipping just below the dock so Yennefer couldn't see him. Swift like the wolf of his school, he snuck his arms around her waist and pulled her into the cool water with him with a loud whoop.

Never taking his hands from her waist, he watched her splutter to right herself in the water, splashing water into his laughing face in the meantime. Once she recollected herself and caught her breath, her teeth chattering in the cool water, she glared at her love, her cheeks flushing in anger.

Before she could open her mouth to tell him off, Geralt had captured her lips with his own. She tried resisting at first, but his lips and hands were insistent, and she couldn't deny that somehow, despite swimming in the freezing water for an hour, his body was still warm. So she leaned into his touch – just a bit, she was still upset of course. Her koal would be ruined.

Finally, he let her go, ready to deal with any leftover animosity she would have towards him. Instead, she muttered "insatiable" under her breath, rather amusedly, and simply floated away, something else already catching her attention

He watched her approach a little girl sitting on the shore, knees drawn up to her chest and away from all the other children playing. Gently, Yen approached her and spoke to her a moment, before offering her hand to the girl. She took it, only hesitating a little, and Yennefer led her into the water, playing with her in the shallow end.

He watched Yennefer's serene and content face, and for a moment, Geralt thought of a little girl with dark, thick locks and golden amber eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Yennefer paced back and forth across the room while Geralt watched her from the doorway. He leaned against the doorframe, and he couldn't help but think Yen looked like an angry cat. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes angry, and he swore he heard a hiss escape her lips as she made another circuit.

"Yen, what's wrong?" he groaned, stepping into the room and blocking the path she was wearing into their bedroom floor. She looked up at him, eyes bright and a little bit furious.

"What's _wrong!_ Are you _dense_ Geralt? This is what's wrong!" She stuffed a piece of paper into his face, and he quickly caught it before it fell to the floor.

Yen sat herself down on the edge of the bed, folding her arms and pouting while Geralt read the note she had given him. Oh, it was the letter he had received from Triss this morning, inviting him and a guest to some ball or other being thrown in Kovir.

"And…?" The letter had no perfume or lipstick marks marring it, and when he had told Yen about it initially, she was excited to go dress shopping and see the gossip of court again – at least for a short while.

She huffed indignantly, "Read it _again."_ She demanded.

Another groan, "Monsieur Geralt of Rivia, I, Triss Merigold, invite you and one guest –"

She jumped up suddenly, "There! Right there! Not only are you Triss's special guest to some stupid ball, but she didn't even put me in the letter! Who did she think you would take? _Zoltan_?" She scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder, and Geralt rubbed his palm against his face. She opened her mouth as if she would say more, but instead sat back down on the bed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"I just – never mind Geralt, this is stupid. You know what I think? I think we shouldn't go to this ball at all," she waved her hand absently.

Geralt, sly smirk intact, slid up beside her on the bed, wrapping his arm snuggly around her waist, mouth hot against her ear, "Sounds like someone's jealous to me."

Wrong thing to say, apparently. Yennefer turned to face him, appalled, and pushed him hard against his chest.

" _Jealous?_ Are you mad, Geralt? I'm not jealous! How dare you – oof!"

He had her pinned beneath him on the bed, eyes bright and fierce – the eyes of an animal, Yennefer noticed absent-mindedly.

" _Yen,"_ the way he said her name made her shiver, "Who did I choose?"

She was silent for a moment, before quietly, "Me."

"Who has always held my heart?"

"…Me?"

"And who do I love?" He had a small smile curving his lips now.

"Me," Yen replied weakly.

"Good," he rewarded her with a sound kiss on the lips, and when he pulled back a small blush covered her cheeks.

"And who always knows how to make me irritated, to no end?"

At this Yen raised one delicate eyebrow, "Well, for all I know, Triss made your life a living hell while you had lost your memory, and it must have been no walk in the park dealing with Keira –"

He kissed her again, "You know, I agree. I have a much better idea of what we could do than going to some stupid ball."


	5. Chapter 5

Geralt tightened his grip around Yen's waist, her head resting on his shoulder. He reveled in the soft skin beneath his hands.

"I've been thinking –" he began, breaking the silence surrounding them in the night.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Yen drawled, her voice already heavy with sleep. He swore he could see the smirk gracing her lips, and he pinched her hip in retaliation. She hissed in response, but otherwise kept silent, too tired to fight back.

He hesitated a moment, then, "What will you do once I'm gone?" His voice was rough and quiet. Yen lifted herself up on an elbow to look down at him, startled and apprehensive.

"What are you talking about?" Geralt's eyes were bright in the darkness, glowing and making her skin tingle. He didn't respond right away, eyes searching hers, and she splayed her open palm over his cheek. Rough.

He got up abruptly, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaving Yen in a jumble of sheets, startled. His hands lay within the crook of his open legs. He huffed, agitated, and Yen just stared at his back, her eyes wide. Her head was spinning from being so tired and his sudden movement and the words he had spoken – he couldn't be, but? She moaned quietly, her head and heart aching.

"Sorceresses – they live for a long time, don't they?" Yes, she felt it in the timber of his voice – she knew what was coming and it made her whole body shake anxiously.

Her voice felt small and weak, "Yes, but so do Witchers."

"They live longer, don't they? They can live forever, so I've heard. I'll die eventually, but you – what will happen to you?" His eyes pinned her to the spot – she couldn't move.

"Y-yes, in practice they can live forever, but –" She stalled, frantic. She didn't want to think about this – not now, not _ever._

It would be inevitable, it would happen eventually. A little voice nagging in her ear that her little paradise with her knight in shining armor wouldn't last forever – she would be alone again eventually. _Again_. All alone. Now, it was out in the open, and she couldn't escape with a swift kiss good night. She was stuck to the spot, forced to face the fact that she was never meant to have a happily ever after, in the end of it all.

Geralt's voice was a low warning growl, "And besides the _theory_ of it all, I'll die first, won't I?"

" _Geralt_ -" her voice was strained and high.

"Yen, what will happen to you when I'm gone?"

Her eyes became bleary thinking about it. She knew what would happen – she would be lost, faltering once again. Alone, trying to find comfort in whatever whim she fancied at the moment. Maybe another child for her senile body? Maybe she would find another Djinn and wish him back, bring the world's destruction upon itself if it could mean she would see him once more.

Her throat never found the words, "I don't know," she whispered. He turned back around, shutting her out. She wouldn't know how she would feel – knowing she would die when her lover would live on.

She pushed herself over to him, wrapping her arms around his back and holding on tightly, unafraid that she would restrain his breathing. They had spent too many years apart – lost and fighting and angry – and they would pay for it now. Hot tears slid down her cheeks and onto Geralt's chest. She felt a shiver run through him, or maybe it was a silent sob, a retreat from the inevitable.

"Please, come back to bed, Geralt," her voice was just a little broken.

He willingly obliged, turning to her and kissing her softly on the mouth. She pressed herself tightly into his chest, and he wrapped himself around her like a cocoon. For now – it would be fine, it was alright. They were both there, and that was what mattered, Yen tried to convince herself. A kiss on the forehead calmed her nerves. Yes, Geralt was still here.

"Remember me, Yen. When it's all said and done, I wouldn't be able to live without you."

"I won't live either," she admitted softly into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

Geralt smirked, crossing his arms, "Well," he drawled, "Nice of you to finally show up."

Ciri huffed, half out of unamused humor and half out of physical exertion – Geralt and Yen just _had_ to live at the top of a very remote and isolated hill in a corner of Skellige that nobody visited, didn't they?

" _Someone_ has to fight all of those monsters you left out there after you decided to retire, old man," she called out, about halfway up the hill, hands on her knees as she took a quick break to catch her breath, "Mind giving me a hand?"

Geralt's smirk turned into a full-blown smile. It had been too long since he had last seen Ciri – she was a young, busy, renowned Witchress, which meant visits from her were few and far between nowadays. But that also meant her visits were all the more sweet, "Considering I'm retired? I don't think so."

"Where's Yennefer? She's actually nice to me," she teased, starting her determined pace once again. Geralt laughed, full and hearty.

"She's in town, picking up a few things, should pop by any minute now. Need help with your packs?" he asked, already making his way down to where Ciri had tied up her horse – she usually stayed a few nights with them, which included bringing some food and sleeping equipment and such up with her.

Before he could get far, though, Ciri quickened her pace until she was beside him – an impressive feat, Geralt had to admit. She was still only about halfway up the hill, last he checked. He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her nervous appearance, which only heightened his suspicion when she said – breathless, "Oh, no, don't worry about that. I have a – um – friend that's been travelling with me awhile, and they'll bring the rest of the stuff up in a bit. See? I already have most of it anyway." She pointed to the over-stuffed pack on her back.

"Right," Geralt deadpanned, "And who is this _friend_ of yours?"

"You'll meet them in a bit," Ciri smiled nervously, and then kissed him on his cheek, turning to walk into his and Yen's house with a backward glance. Geralt crossed his arms, a dangerous scowl on his face.

" _Ciri_ ," he warned, but it seemed that she was in no mood to talk further on the subject as she opened the front door and let herself in – not that _that_ would stop Geralt from his interrogation. She might be stubborn but he was too.

If a man – a young, handsome man - walked up that hill behind Ciri, so help him, he would make sure –

"Ciri! Oh, you're back early!" Yen's excited call came from inside the house. Perfect, now that Ciri was distracted with her mother, he would be able to have a little chat with this so-called friend of hers without any interruptions – and nobody to stop him from, say, using a little igni here and there in the process…

Geralt smirked, turning away from the house where the two women were chatting up a storm, to look at the path leading up to the house. Whoever was with Ciri, they would be up here eventually – the sooner the better, he supposed, and all he had to do now was wait.

A moment, then two, and he could see a head poking out from the crest of the middle of the hill. Geralt's eyes narrowed as the figure's head slowly came into view, piece by piece – if that was a handsome young man and he touched his Ciri even _once –_

Before his target came into view, before he could identify and perhaps intimidate just a little bit, he heard Ciri and Yen's laughs approaching, then the front door opening, and Yen's arms wrapping around his waist from behind. She smiled into his back. He continued scowling, but wrapped his hands over hers nonetheless.

Yen stood onto her tiptoes, looking out onto the valley below them over Geralt's shoulder, spotting the head that Geralt had not taken his eyes off of once, "Oh! Is that Galahad, Ciri?"

At that, Geralt _did_ turn back to Ciri, who avoided his narrowed gaze and tight jaw in exchange for looking at her companion's slowly growing form, a serene smile on her face, "Yes, it is."

"What do you mean 'is that Galahad'?" Geralt asked the sorceress clinging to his back.

Yen giggled, "Geralt, what do you think we were talking about in the house?"

"I don't know, flowers?"

She pinched his cheek lightly, "Silly."

"So, why didn't you tell me you were travelling with Galahad?" Geralt hissed, his attention back on Ciri.

Ciri shrugged her shoulders, obviously trying to hide the blush creeping up her neck onto her cheeks, "Because I knew you would probably kill or maim him for – well – _being_ with me. With Yen here the worst you can do is threaten his life," Geralt had to give it to his kind-of-daughter; she kept her voice steady the whole time she spoke, but he knew that she was still nervous, could see it in the way she fidgeted on her feet. Probably for his approval – even though she knew spot-on what would happen once Geralt met her male companion.

"Where the hell did you scrounge out Galahad?" He felt Yen poke him in the side, her usual sign to tell him to stop, but he didn't bother to listen.

Ciri scowled and it reminded him too much of when Yen was angry with him, "You of all people should know you can happen upon _anyone_ while on the Road."

"And you, perchance, happened upon Galahad? Where was he, at the bottom of a pigsty?"

" _Geralt_ ," warning number two from his lady love. He was playing with fire now – both Yennefer and Ciri mad at him? He really did have a death wish, "I think it's wonderful Ciri has found him again. He's so handsome, don't you think?" Yen asked, only slightly serious but it only made Geralt hate the man all the more for it. She went to stand by Ciri's side, pulling her into a side hug, "And from what I hear he's made our Cirilla all the more happy, travelling with her and allowing her to save him when necessary. It all sounds lovely." Ciri smiled up at Yen, and she shared a conspiratorial one back.

Geralt scowled. _Women._

Before he could retort, however, Galahad had made his way up the steep slope, huffing and puffing, dropping the packs he carried down onto the ground before him. Before he was even fully recovered Ciri ran up to him, and with a smile a dying man would give water, he picked her up into his arms in a giant hug.

The scowl melted from Geralt's face when he saw the happiness written across Ciri's features – her eyes were bright and she had the biggest smile on her lips he had ever seen. She looked serene and vibrant – had Galahad done all that? No, it must've been the travelling on the Road. But she didn't look this happy the last time she was here… Lost to his own thoughts, Yen approached Galahad first, drawing him into a hug and asking about his travels with Ciri.

When Yen was done interrogating the young boy, the group finally turned back to Geralt, silence reigning over them.

Sure, Galahad was a wee bit taller than him, but that didn't mean he wasn't intimidating, and when Geralt put his hand out for the young man to shake, he could visibly see him deflate, "It's nice to see you again, Geralt."

"Yeah," Well, at least he knew who was in charge here – and that if he broke Ciri's heart, well… Geralt gave his hand one squeeze too tight before letting Ciri drag him by the arm into the house behind them. Not before she drew him into a tight hug too, though.

Geralt sighed. He was powerless against the women in his life.

It just made him sulk more once they were both in the house. Yen turned to him, a smirk playing on her lips, "Play _nice._ Or do you want Ciri to never visit us again because you just couldn't help yourself from murdering her lover?"

He shook his head, "Don't say Ciri and lover in the same sentence ever again," he wrapped his arm around her waist all the same, "And what do I get in return for playing nice?" his voice had gone down, low and smooth.

Yen leaned in close, her lips a breath away from his, "I bought some rope in the market today. Use your imagination."

He hummed in his throat, "No problem there," she took him by the arm, pulling him towards their quaint little cottage, "But they're sleeping in separate rooms, even if Galahad has to sleep outside with the wolves. Not that I would complain."


End file.
